


What The Cat Dragged In

by KennaM



Series: Fandom Kittens [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennaM/pseuds/KennaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Members of the Inquisition weren't really encouraged to adopt stray animals, but you couldn't stop the animals from adopting stray members of the Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What The Cat Dragged In

Cadash noticed the young cat before she noticed the boy; it was a small, fat furball, trudging straight down the courtyard without a care in the world. And so out of place in the bustling fortress, she had to stop to make sure she was seeing things right. From her vantage point on the Skyhold walls, she thought she saw its tail sticking happily up in the air.

Moments later, she realized who it was following, and had to chuckle.

Cole wasn’t in his usual spots at the tavern or the infirmary when Cadash finally found him, but instead at the well by the stables. He stood with his hands up on the bricks, peering in, and at his feet the kitten watched him intently. Cadash heard it meow as she approached.

“Looking for some water?” she asked with a suppressed grin. She could barely see Cole’s eyes beneath the brim of his hat.

“He followed me,” Cole responded, sounding helpless. “I told him not to but he wouldn’t listen.”

The kitten wound between Cole’s feet, brushing up against a leg and ignoring the inquisitor completely. It turned its face upwards and meowed at Cole again.

Cadash chuckled, and knelt down to get a better look. “Cats are like that,” she said. She held out a hand to get the small animal’s attention, and it finally turned its muddy green-yellow eyes on her, sniffed the air a few times, and looked away. “They do whatever they want no matter what anyone else thinks. Seems like this one likes you.”

“Yes,” Cole said. “But I can’t get him the food he needs, and he’s hungry.” As he spoke, Cole began to turn the well crank, rope winding slowly on the crossbar as the water bucket rose up. The kitten eyed his movements closely. It’s tail became temporarily stuck on one of Cole’s buckles as it stared, transfixed, at his hands. “He’s always hungry.”

“Don’t you usually just steal food from the kitchens?“ Cadash asked with amusement. Cassandra had tried to put a stop to it when she first heard it was happening, and only relented when the inquisitor had pointed out that he never stole anything for himself.

“He needs… things to bite,” Cole said. He frowned, like even he realized that wasn’t a good answer. “For his teeth,” he tried again. “To… grow stronger.”

“You mean meat,” Cadash supplied. Carnivore food.

“Yes.” Cole sounded relieved. The bucket reached the top of the well and he drew it out, resting it on the brick so he could retrieve the ladle. He knelt down with the ladle of water held out for the kitten to drink from.

It sniffed at the water experimentally, blinked once, then meowed pitifully up at Cole again.

Cadash choked down a chuckle, and asked, “so why is that a problem? The meat.”

“She doesn’t like sharing,” Cole said. “She swats at my feet when I go near what’s hers, and then the cook sees me, and asks what I need. She doesn’t mind if I take the honey, or the bread, but she doesn’t like if I go near her little bowl in the corner.”

“The cook’s cat,” Cadash said, the problem suddenly clicking. Cole didn’t answer. He pushed the ladle of water toward the kitten again, and again it ignored the offering. This time Cole stared up at Cadash, at a complete loss.

“He’s thirsty but won’t drink,” he said. “Hungry, but I have no food. I don’t know what to do.”

Cadash couldn’t suppress the laughter bubbling up inside of her anymore. It came out louder than she intended, a barking guffaw that startled the kitten, which just made her laugh even more. She doubled over, and a confused look grew on Cole’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Cadash gasped when she could finally speak again. She leaned against the well wall for support, trying to catch her breath. “It’s just… that thing has you wrapped around its little finger, doesn’t it?”

Cole glanced down at the kitten, and Cadash just knew he was checking to see if the animal even _had_ a little finger.

“How much did you feed it before it started following you around, Cole?” she asked.

“Just the stew Cabot gave me,” he admitted quietly. “He was too busy to hear that I didn’t need it.”

“Well there you go,” Cadash said. “Shit, with as fat as this thing is, it’s probably better fed than I am. It’s just bugging you for more food because it thinks you have some.”

Cole seemed to seriously consider the idea for a moment. “But he’s hungry,” he countered.

“It’s a growing kitten. They’re always hungry. It’s not something you can heal out of them.”

By this point the kitten was practically glaring up at Cadash, giving her a look of absolute betrayal. She wanted to start laughing again but took pity on Cole, who seemed even more lost and confused, and she held it in. “He’s been following me since yesterday, and all I fed him was the stew” Cole said. “If there’s nothing I can do, then… why follow me?”

Cadash smiled, struck by the perfect silliness of the situation. “Probably because it likes you,” she said. “Remember what I said about cats, and doing what they wanted no matter what anyone thinks?”

Cole didn’t answer, but he slowly lifted his free hand, mimicking the gesture Cadash herself had made earlier. The kitten only sniffed at him for a moment before it was brushing its cheeks against his fingers. “This one seems to have adopted you,” Cadash added with a grin.

For some reason, Cole flinched at that. He suddenly stood up, dumped the water back into the water bucket, and left the bucket and ladle out on the bricks of the well. The kitten meowed up curiously at him, and Cole wrung his hands, looking away.

“I can’t take care of an animal,” he said before Cadash could ask what was wrong. “I’m a spirit. I didn’t even know… all those things you just told me. It would be better if he forgot about me, but I can’t make him forget. How do I make him forget?”

Cadash sighed. “You can’t,” she said, though it was more a guess than anything she knew for sure, “but you’re looking at the issue all wrong.

Cole met her eyes.

“You don’t have to take care of it, because it can well enough take care of itself,” Cadash said. The kitten was back to rubbing up against Cole’s legs, while watching Cadash suspiciously. “And you don’t have to watch it alone. I’m sure there’d be plenty of people willing to help you figure out how cats work. Varric, for instance.”

Cole frowned again, and looked down at the small animal beside his feet. “I don’t think…” he started to say, but he never finished the thought. The kitten meowed up again, realizing it was being noticed, and Cole’s frown disappeared, replaced by the shadow of a smile. “You might be right,” he finally admitted. “He could help.”

That didn’t sound exactly like what Cadash had in mind, but it was a start. “Alright,” she said, pleased. “Now you just need to name it.”

Cole looked up at her in alarm. “Name him?” he asked, and she couldn’t hold back another chuckle.

 “Maybe just one step at a time, then.”


End file.
